Thanks to everyone who came out to the superfun 80s party Saturday. It was a blast and I think everyone but my bro had a blast (he doesn’t remember it). Here’s to the next time!
I’m at the 21st St Fish House in Norfolk, VA about to watch The Gaskets play. They’re most certainly my favorite band, and the fact that I’ve hung out with them in a very personal setting only perpetuates their badassitude. Misfortunately, my current archnemeses are on their way here, so this night may not turn out as well as it should, but at least I got to chill with the band before the show, so fuck all else. The Others come hither. I retreat.
Man… A mortar and pestle leave mad blisters. Hopefully all work will be worthwhile. Btw, when cops walk in your front door at 2am and ask what you’re doing with a mortar and pestle, make sure you tell them you’re studying biology at the University of [insert random state here], they’ll walk out and pretend like they didn’t see anything… Well, not before asking you to turn down the music and commenting on how contrasting your t-shirt is compared to what’s playing. Wow.
I’m in the car with the tank of gas that will take me to nags head. I should be there in under two hours. Oh glorious eve.
You know how sometimes you’ll be having a conversation with someone and they say something that throws you so completely off guard that you can’t think of anything to say? BOY HOWDY did that happen to me today. I got the same shivers you get the first time you go in for the first kiss. The shakes from standing at the edge of the highdive and knowing the next time you inhale, you’ll be falling. But when your lips meet, or you hit the water, it all blasts away in one firey wave of extacy.
Shit, I could use that wave right about now… I can barely type.